


a million worlds apart

by reformedcharacter



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Robron Week 2018, a little bit of royalty au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 03:32:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14151033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reformedcharacter/pseuds/reformedcharacter
Summary: written for robron week 2018!day five: au day“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it was empty.” His voice surprises Aaron, deep yet still boyish, gentle, and despite his shock he doesn’t stumble over himself, the words falling out of his lips with a perfect precision.“Nope.” Aaron says confidently, the ‘p’ making a loud popping sound that neither of them expect. “I wanted to escape from the party, and this is the only place I wouldn’t be found.”or, the royalty au no one asked for





	a million worlds apart

**Author's Note:**

> check out the amazing moodboard my best pal sophie made [here!](http://dingletragedy.tumblr.com/post/172423205042/robron-week-day-5-au-royalty-au-a-million%E2%80%9D)

He walks with the grace only a prince could possess; strong shoulders, perfect posture, a slight grimace adorning his face that could easily be misconstrued as a shy smirk. He descends the stairs, hand gripping the bannister tightly, feet too heavy in his loafers as he descends the steps, yet they make no sound against the dark wood. Aaron’s beard has been shaved too close to his face, the short stubble itchy against his skin and he resists the urge to scratch roughly at the sensation around his neck.

There’s a bright flashing light in his eye by the time he reaches the bottom step, the shirt collar restricting his breathing ever so slightly, as it digs into the pale skin that lies underneath. Chas pulls him closer to his side, a wide grin on her face, and stands tall, ruby red gown flowing down the lengths of her body and pooling around her feet, laying unceremoniously at her feet. She doesn’t blink as the flashes continue. 

Aaron stands taller, pulls at the white shirt sleeves and tugs them slightly, wanting to cover his fingertips, but they do not move, rigid in place, as he turns to face the cameras directly. They stand still for a few moments, calls from the press for smiles and comments on the recent _royal_ _scandal_ that will have graced the front pages in the recent days. 

 

Before it registers, Chas’ arm loops through his, perfectly manicured nails digging into his arm, tugging him slightly into the direction of the ballroom. The lights cease in their flashing, as the tabloids are hurried out into the cold courtyard, the sky dark with clouds and rain, with a loud slam of the door. His feet thud against the wooden floor this time, as he drags them in time with his mothers’. Her mouth is still stretched into a full smile, but Aaron notices the down-turned edges of her lips, the slight wrinkles marking the outskirts of her pale green eyes. 

They turn a corner, the pair of them still in deathly silence, and suddenly music floods Aaron’s ears. A cacophony of loud and intrusive violins, strings screeching against their bows, penetrating the side of his head. Chas sighs loudly, and slows her steps, before ducking her head slightly, placing her lips near to Aaron’s ear, a gentle whisper escaping her lips. 

“Please make an effort tonight, we need to keep up appearances.” She pulls away as quickly as she had appeared and smiles down at Aaron, his mother only a few centimetres taller than him, despite her towering heels. 

They’ve reached the end of the hallway, a looming oak doorway stands before them, a mass of people behind anxiously waiting for their grand entrance. He stands taller, shoulders unwavering in their strength. And he smiles. 

Aaron Dingle is a prince. So, a prince he must be.

  
  


\---

The air is sweltering hot despite the lashings of rain outside the windows. The ballroom is vast; mahogany wood floors spanning from end to end, an impossibly high ceiling, with immense white chandeliers suspended from the beams, light bouncing off and hitting the walls. The windows are monumental in size, with draping curtains and gold detailing. It makes Aaron roll his eyes and scoff loudly, alerting the attention of a waiter who happens to be passing.

“Is everything to your liking, sir?” His voice is stuffy, nasally, and he looks to tempted to bow before Aaron, despite the large silver plate in his hand. 

“Yes, thank you.” Aaron resists the urge to roll his eyes a second time; the man in front of him looks older than he probably is, silver hair scattered throughout the mess of brown atop his head, wrinkles surrounding his deep set eyes and tight mouth; Aaron feels an ounce of sympathy for him, and smiles slightly as he scurries off to serve another guest. 

He steps further backwards, his back pressed flush against the wall as he takes a deep breath and grips tighter at the empty glass in his sweating hands.  

The tight collar around his neck is stifling, digging into his skin harsher than before, and he fights the overwhelming temptation to unbutton the top button of his suit. Despite the large room, Aaron can hear Chas’ loud cackle from across the hall as though she is stood by his side. There’s a mess of people in between them, sweeping gowns brushing against the floor in a flurry of movement, whipping around their owners as they dance to the thunderous music still reverberating around the room. The gentlemen clad in dark black suits and bowties as they take graceful steps in time with their partners, hands on waists, when a face appears in front of Aaron. 

She has blonde curls cascading around her face and resting by her waist, flushed red cheeks and small framed glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. 

“Hello, you’re Prince Aaron, correct?” She says, voice squeaky and piercing.

“Yes, I am.” He says, just as the band suddenly quieten their music, before seamlessly transitioning into a softer, slower melody. Aaron gulps. 

“Would you like to dance with me?” Aaron now notices the mess that once stood in front of him has now transformed into the gentle swishing of fabrics melting into one another as the couples dance around in delicate steps, somehow weaving in and out of one another with refined grace.

“No, thanks.” And Aaron rushes out of the door, leaving the girl with her mouth dropped open wide, a frown adorning her face, and an empty glass on the nearby table.

  
  


\---

Aaron hadn’t considered the rain outside. His hair already soaking wet as he hurries away from the castle towering behind him. It’s dark outside, the moon peeking out from behind the clouds, but still light enough for him to find his way to the nearby stables. Chas will have noticed his absence by now, and returning to his quarters would be a sure fire way of being found, so he rushes over to the empty building. 

He’s shaking as he reaches the door of the barn, a flimsy piece of wood adorned with holes and cracks, and Aaron regrets every decision he’s ever made as he pushes it open with a heavy hand. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he finds it empty. It’s a single room,  _ if it can be called a room,  _ with piles of hay stacked in the corner, and to Aaron’s delight, a pile of abandoned sheets and blankets for the horses. He carefully steps over to the corner of the room and places his hands on the hay, spiky and jagged under his skin, and pushes himself up clumsily. After getting himself somewhat comfortable he pulls a sheet over his legs to provide a modicum of warmth to his shaking body. Aaron lays his head back and lets it rest on a haybale behind him before he remembers the excruciatingly uncomfortable collar wrapped tight around his neck, he drags his trembling hands up to the drenched shirt and unbuttons the top two buttons quickly, letting out a heavy sigh of relief as he lays his head back again. 

His hair is stuck to his forehead, water droplets dripping down his forehead and nestling into his eyebrows, trickling down the back of his neck and sending shivers down his spine. The barn is dark, yet he can still see his breath forming a cloud in front of his face, the lanterns bathing the barn in a yellow light but doing nothing to make the room feel warmer. Rain continues to shake the fragile wooden structure vigorously, the wind is loudly hitting the side of the building, whistling loudly. 

Despite the blanket pulled over him, Aaron continues to shake, teeth chattering uncontrollably in his mouth, so he pulls his legs up towards his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He finds his eyes slowly flickering shut, and despite the cold chill flowing through them, he doesn’t fight against it. 

  
  


\---

Suddenly, Aaron jolts awake. The door to the barn loudly banging against the wall as a faint whistle floats in. He scrunches his eyes tightly, and yawns, rubbing his face roughly. Somehow, is hands have warmed up slightly, but his hair remains wait, and he hazards a guess that his once tamed curls will now be in an uncontrollable disarray atop his head. He pulls himself up slightly, just in time to witness the man walking through the door, a collection of bright blue sheets stacked in his hands. 

Aaron decides that ' _ man'  _ might be a touch too generous. He’s young, perhaps a year or two older than Aaron’s lowly seventeen years. His clothes are perfectly dry in spite of the weather, which Aaron now notices has quietened considerably, and his blonde hair forms a perfect halo around his head. 

He wears a soft yellow shirt, the fabric bright yet not offensive to the eye, and a set of suspenders, a pale maroon, not dissimilar to the pairs Aaron has seen the gardening staff wear on occasion. His hairs long, longer than Aaron’s, but rests above his eyebrows, a sweeping fringe covering the pale skin that lies underneath. He continues to whistle as he steps further into the barn, heavy work boots thumping against the concrete floor, kicking away stray pieces of hay, when he comes to a stop in front of Aaron, his mouth gaping open slightly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it was empty.” His voice surprises Aaron, deep yet still boyish, gentle, and despite his shock he doesn’t stumble over himself, the words falling out of his lips with a perfect precision. 

“Nope.” Aaron says confidently, the ‘ _ p _ ’ making a loud popping sound that neither of them expect. “I wanted to escape from the party, and this is the only place I wouldn’t be found.”

“Until now?” He grunts, tossing the sheets into the corner Aaron had stolen his from. He wipes his hands quickly on his trousers and stands in front of Aaron once again, a small smile taking over his lips.

“Well, yeah.” Aaron shrugs.

“Oh my god.” He glances back up towards the boy in front of him, whose mouth is now covered with a pale hand, his eyebrows scrunched up slightly. 

“What?”

“You’re Prince Aaron.” This time, Aaron doesn’t resist the temptation to roll his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I didn’t realise.” 

“ _ Please,  _ don’t call me sir. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.” He grunts as the stranger lowers his hand, bringing it to rest on his hip, his eyebrows still screwed in confusion. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand.” He says, timid suddenly. 

Aaron sighs deeply and stretches out his legs from underneath him, pulling himself up further;

“Do you realise how annoying it is to have everyone call you sir, or your highness, or anything else under the damn sun, instead of your actual name?” He exclaims, voice steadily rising, quivering faintly. 

He instantly regrets his decision, blinking his eyes rapidly as the stranger looks back at him in shock, before finding his voice again;

“No I don’t know what that’s like, but I mostly just get called ‘Oi! Staff!’ and be done with it.” He raises his voice into a shrill and feminine squeal, forcing a cackle to fall from Aaron’s mouth. His shoulders quickly rising up and down as laughter takes over in his chest, mouth pulled into a beaming smile

He continues to giggle as he stutters out; “What should I call you then?” 

“Robert. Robert Sugden,  _ Sir _ .” The sarcasm seeps out of him, a slight smirk forming on his face as he shuffles closer to where Aaron is sitting. 

Aaron shifts his position slightly, giving Robert room to sit opposite him. It’s a tight squeeze when Robert pulls himself up onto the hay, but neither complain. 

Now he’s closer, Aaron allows himself to cast his eyes over Robert’s face. He’s paler up close, his pasty skin a perfect canvas for the display of golden freckles dancing across his face. They’re concentrated on the bridge of his nose, but continue across his face; underneath his light green eyes, across his cheeks and travelling down his neck. His hair looks softer up this close, shorter around his ears but long enough to curl slightly from the rain. Robert’s lips are indescribably pink, chapped slightly, but Aaron finds himself tracing the lines with his eyes. It’s only when he notices them moving slightly, he realises he hasn’t spoken since Robert sat opposite him. He gulps harshly again. 

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Absolutely freezing, that’s why I nicked one of those sheets.” 

“Does it count as nicking if your family owns literally  _ everything _ ?” He mocks, as Aaron sticks his tongue out at him.

“Shut it, mate.”

They both let out a soft chuckle before Robert asks: “So how come you’re in here, soaked through may I add, when there is a ball going on inside?” 

“That’s why I’m in here. Balls aren’t really my thing.”

“I thought balls were all royal’s things, tradition and all that?”

Aaron smiles, and jokingly rolls his eyes in Robert’s direction, “Clearly, I’m not like all royals then.”

“Clearly not.” Robert licks his lips quickly, his tongue appearing from inside his mouth quickly, and sweeping across his mouth. Aaron feels a flash of heat in his cheeks and looks down in his lap, ringing his hands together. 

“What happened that made you run then?”

“Oh, I got asked to dance.”

Robert blows his cheeks out wide, his eyes widening with them; “You got asked to dance? Oh the humanity of it all!” Aaron grins, “What has the world come to, when the  _ prince  _ gets asked to  _ dance? _ ” He chuckles loudly. 

“Oh shut it,” Aaron finds himself laughing again, and shoves at Robert’s knee roughly, “You don’t know what it’s like! Everyone stares, it’s weird.” 

“There’s no one around here to stare.”

“What?”

As abruptly as Robert sat down, he pushes himself back up with the same volition, landing with a heavy smack on the floor. 

“No one’s around here to watch. Come dance with me.”

“You’re mad.”

“Come on! I’m just a skivvy lad, no one's ever going to dance with me at a royal ball. So please,  _ Sir,  _ would you dance with me?” He raises his arm towards Aaron, and holds out his hand for him to take.

Aaron shakes his head quickly back and forth, but Robert tilts his slightly, and Aaron finds he can’t resist. Pushing himself up from the hay, he too drops back to the ground. Only when he takes Robert’s hand in his, his other falling down to take Robert’s waist, does he remember his wet shirt clinging to his skin. But if Robert notices, it doesn’t phase him, he places his arm around Aaron’s neck, softly pressing his hand against his face as he begins to move. 

It’s barely dancing, with no music, and hay sticking to their wet shoes, merely stepping from left to right in small movements, yet Aaron allows himself to let Robert move them. He can feel Robert’s breath on his neck, as he ducks his head lower to reach Aaron’s, having not noticed their clear height difference when he entered the barn, Aaron suddenly feels so small, engrossed by Robert, the other boy encompassing him entirely. 

Without warning, Robert stops their slow movements, only to move his hand to Aaron’s waist, and dips him quickly. Aaron lets out a yelp, and clings onto Robert as he uncontrollably giggles, pulling him back up and returning to their steady movements as though nothing had changed. Robert ducks his head again, and lays his chin on Aaron’s shoulder, giggles still tumbling out of his mouth. 

“What did you do that for, you idiot?” Aaron’s breath his heavy, chest rising and falling quickly from the shock, but continues to move with Robert.

He pulls back slightly, Robert’s face coming out of the crook of Robert’s neck, a wide smile on his face. 

“I dunno,” He mumbles, still laughing, “was funny.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.” He smiles wider, and Aaron can’t help himself anymore. 

He leans forward and catches Robert’s lips in his, the other boy stilling slightly against him. His lips are softer than he’d expected, yet still somehow everything he had wanted. Robert begins to move against him, and raises his hands to Aaron’s face, placing them against his heated cheeks as he moves his lips quickly against Aaron’s. Aaron allows his to glide down to Robert’s chest, gripping the fabric roughly in his fingertips as he pulls him in closer, his mouth slipping opening slightly to allow access to Robert’s tongue. 

They fall apart naturally, yet Aaron still stands close enough to feel Robert’s breath hot against his lips. 

“Well,” He says quietly “Didn’t expect that when I came into work today.”

Aaron forces out a huff of a laugh, and smiles slightly.

“What can I say? You’re irresistible.” 

“You can say that again.” He murmurs, “But Aaron, you’re still a prince. I’m still the scum that tidies up your garden. This can’t work.”

“Who says it can’t?” In an unusual act of courageousness he presses his lips against Robert’s again, kissing him softly before pulling away again. 

“Sod what the world thinks, who says what we’re supposed to be? I like you Robert, you like me too don’t you?” Aaron mutters.

“Before I started working here,” He whispers “I used to have your photo in my room, thought you were well handsome.” He looks down in embarrassment, a flush of red creeping up his neck.

Aaron lets out a loud guffawing sound, and wraps his arms around Robert’s neck, tugging him into a tight hug, Robert’s face returning to its previous position in Aaron’s neck as he giggles loudly. He kisses his, now dry, skin softly and pushes his nose into his shoulder further, as Aaron presses a kiss into Robert’s temple. 

“We can do this, Robert.” He feels Robert nod his head ever so slightly, and pulls him in closer. 

Sod what the world thinks, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you thought on tumblr! @frecklysugden


End file.
